


Darshak

by AllegoriesInMediasRes



Series: Jodhaa Akbar AU fics [3]
Category: Jodhaa-Akbar (2008)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Gen, Humor, Oneshot, Sujamal Lives AU, Sujamal is an overprotective older brother, Swordfighting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-15
Updated: 2018-04-15
Packaged: 2019-04-23 03:00:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14323101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AllegoriesInMediasRes/pseuds/AllegoriesInMediasRes
Summary: When Jodhaa’s gaze drops to her husband’slips, Sujamal knows he must intervene.Or, the AU we all need where Sujamal watches his sister and her husband’s duel and interjects with all his snarky thoughts.





	Darshak

**Author's Note:**

> Title means “spectator” in Hindi. Set in some AU where Jodhaa is fighting against Sujamal when Jalal challenges her to a fight. Creds go to Maya (@parlegee/weaslayyy) for part of the inspiration for this scene.

The Emperor may be a Mughal, but he is the Emperor, and so Sujamal hands over his sword. The Emperor accepts it and slips his rings to the nearest attendant. _Good_ , the Rajkumar of Amer thinks. This Emperor may be willing to assume that his brother-in-law is his wife’s secret lover, but he is not so uncouth to assume he will play the role of a servant.

 _Give him hell,_ Sujamal tells his sister silently. _Uphold the Rajput honor._

 _I will_ , Jodhaa promises him, her message clear even with only her eyes visible above her veil.

The Emperor is not gentle with Jodhaa; once she raises her sword, he is swinging and lashing at her with his full strength, no feints or false jabs. Jodhaa meets his every parry and gets in a few good swings of her own. Still, Jalaluddin manages to back her up against a pillar, and much to Sujamal’s indignation, tugs her veil down. He is too far to hear what is said, but Jodhaa shoves him away and resumes the attack. This time, she is the one who backs him into a pillar, giving him a black eye in the process.

_Good._

“Empress of India!” This time his brother-in-law’s voice is loud enough to carry clear across the courtyard. “Do not forget I am your husband!”

_You play the husband card now, when before you couldn’t be bothered with that title._

Jodhaa backs away slowly, the tip of her sword almost caressing him. _She’s going to concede--_

And then she swings her sword directly at her husband’s head.

 _Good_.

The fight resumes, and they move away from the pavillion into the open sunlight once more. This time, it is Jalaluddin who aims at her head, and Jodhaa who must duck. All those hours spent training her reflexes are coming to fruition now, Sujamal notes with pride-- until Jodhaa straightens up, her long hair sweeping down.

The Emperor is holding her turban up like a prize, and even with his back turned, Sujamal can well imagine the arrogant smirk on his face. “ _Eikhand_!” Jodhaa announces, and the courtyard clears except for Sujamal, a distant but still present sentinel. Discreetly, he moves closer so as to better observe.

He is saying something in Persian-- Sujamal cannot understand, but it must be one of his characteristically syrupy compliments. _Match such fine words with fine actions, and then maybe my sister will reciprocate._

Jodhaa attacks, and it’s on again. She is resilient, but she is wearying, not to mention unused to fighting with her hair in the way, while Jalaluddin is still at the top of his game, managing to fight even with the turban in one hand before he sets it down gracefully on a trunk, all the while never missing a beat. Sujamal notes with concern a weakness in Jodhaa’s stance, one which the Emperor notes as well and uses to his full advantage, locking blades with his wife and backing her into a pillar.

Sujamal waits for Jodhaa to shove him off once more and resume the fight, but she does not. Instead, she simply stands there, her face mere inches away from her opponent’s, their blades in a permanent standstill. They are both breathing heavily, and staring intently at each other. At first he thinks they are searching for weaknesses, waiting for the other to make a mistake, but when Jodhaa’s gaze drops to her husband’s _lips_ , Sujamal knows he must intervene.

“That is enough!” He shouts as he charges in, his turban knocked askew as he skids to a halt. Jodhaa and Jalaluddin’s reverie is broken, their gazes meeting him as one. Both are disoriented, taking a few seconds to process the Rajkumar of Amer’s presence.

“I thought you had left,” the Emperor finally says, the flush across his cheeks fading.

“I am not a servant,” Sujamal snaps. “I am a Rajput and a kshatriya, and I must defend my sister’s honor!”

“What honor!” Jodhaa finally speaks. Her tone is waspish, bordering on truly angry, and if Sujamal did not know better, he would say there is disappointment in it as well. “We are married, and there is nothing shameful in-- in--”

She stops, blushing furiously. A wave of irritation sweeps Sujamal, aimed at his sister. What is _with_ her?

“This match is between us only, and we do not require a referee. _Eikhand!_ ”

When neither man moves, Jodhaa shakes her head and takes control of the situation in the way she knows best: swinging her blade in a great arc first aimed at Sujamal, who ducks out of the way, and then at her husband, who blocks it only at the last second. The duel resumes yet again, but this time Sujamal does not come closer, instead merely watching as they move under the eaves and closer to the apartments. Fine, then, if Jodhaa does not wish for his help, he will oblige her wishes.

He watches the rest of the fight from afar: the curtains, the attack from behind that is a masterful bit of work on Jodhaa’s part, the red canopy, the jasmine flowers ( _Is there no limit to this man’s ostentatiousness?)_. Out of the corner of his eye, he notes Gira making her way with a message, but he does nothing. With no small amount of satisfaction, he sees Jodhaa distracted and disarmed.

 _Well done_ , he gives his brother-in-law that much, even if he will not say it out loud. He does not stay to watch their resulting argument; as Jodhaa said, she has no need of a keeper, and he will not inflict himself upon her when he is not wanted.

Later, after the Emperor and his entourage have left, Sujamal is walking through the courtyards once more on some errand when he sees Jodhaa at the balustrade, in her usual spot among the sparrows. “Still here in Amer, _Mallika-E-Hindustan_? I believe you are needed in Agra.”

Jodhaa sends him a withering look, but shoos away several of the sparrows so that her brother can sit down beside her. “I am here in Amer, and will remain here as long as I wish.”

Sujamal crooks an eyebrow. “Even when you lost fair and square, and knew what the terms of the fight were? I taught you the ways of _dharma_ better than that.”

She swats him on the arm, hard enough to bruise. “The Emperor himself, my husband, said that I may remain here, and I see no shame in obeying his command. Besides, it was not a fair match. Gira interrupted us-- you made sure of that, don’t think I don’t know.”

Sujamal recoils. “You mean you are here in Amer only out of his _pity?_ I thought you had more pride than that!”

“Be it out of pride or pity, _dharma_ or _adharma_ , I am staying in Amer, and I will be staying here as long as I please, Sujamal bhaisa!” Jodhaa snaps, and Sujamal is taken aback. He thought she would be glad not to have to return to the Red Fort before she is ready, but something, for some reason, has upset her, and he is the brunt of her temper.

She rises and stalks away, a whirlwind of sparrows flapping in her wake. She calls to him as she leaves, “I suggest you improve your attitude if you wish to make life here for yourself as pleasurable as possible. Otherwise, _you_ can go to Agra if you are so intent on upholding the Rajput honor.”

With that she exits the terrace, and shaking his head, Sujamal rises and follows after her.

**Author's Note:**

> Eikhand is Hindi for “disperse!” as is used several times in the film. I used the original pronunciation because I’ve always had an inordinate fascination with the way it’s said.


End file.
